


A High-Class Rescue Operation

by Vorta_Scholar



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Star Trek: The Next Generation, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Injury, Injury Recovery, Medical Procedures, Recovery, Trauma, Trektober, Trektober 2020, Waiting by Biobed, Weyoun 6 lives, trektober2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:08:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27094048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vorta_Scholar/pseuds/Vorta_Scholar
Summary: Set immediately after Weyoun 6 activated his termination implant. With the help of the runabout's EMH, Odo is able to keep Weyoun stable until their distress call is answered—by the USS Enterprise.
Relationships: Odo & Weyoun 6 (Star Trek)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 42





	A High-Class Rescue Operation

**Author's Note:**

> For Trektober 2020, Day 18
> 
> Prompt: Waiting by biobed

Odo turned, and saw the communication screen light up, showing Damar and the other Weyoun.

“Alright, call off those ships,” the Weyoun in his ship said.

“Why should I?” asked the one on the screen.

“Because you don’t need them anymore.”

He pressed a place below his chin and another at the back of his head, and instantly, he nearly collapsed, the pain evident in the expression on his face.

“I’m glad to see you’ve come to your senses,” said the Weyoun on the screen, his eyes visibly lighting up with interest in the scene unfolding before him.

Odo leapt to his feet and rushed to help his friend, taking him by the arm, placing a hand on his back, trying to hold him steady.

“What have you done?” he insisted.

“I’ve saved your life, and the Dominion’s as well,” the Vorta in his arms said.

“He’s activated his termination implant, and proven himself to be a worthy Vorta at last,” said the other.

“I obey the Founders in all things,” Weyoun recited, almost in defense as he held onto Odo for support.

There was another round of fire on the runabout, and Odo looked frantically at the explosion just past the archway into the back of the runabout.

“Now, call off those ships,” Weyoun said, quite forcefully for a dying man, Odo thought.

He should be saving his energy.

Odo heard Damar make one last effort at a protest, but the other Weyoun didn’t listen. With the press of a single button, the firing stopped.

“I’ve ordered the Jem’Hadar to break off their attack,” he said. “I see your runabout has suffered some battle damage. Will you require any further assistance?”

Odo was struggling to hold Weyoun up, his mind racing. He remembered something, in one of the med kits in the back.

“I think you’ve done enough,” he spat. “Computer, end transmission.”

The screen went blank, and Odo carefully lowered Weyoun to the floor of the runabout.

“They say voluntary termination is quick and painless. I’m afraid that’s not true,” he said.

“Hold on,” Odo said. “Hang in there. I...I have to get something.”

He let him go, and ran into the back, throwing open every cabinet and drawer, throwing things to the ground.

_Where was that damn kit?_

“Odo,” Weyoun cried weakly. “ _Please_. Don’t leave me.”

The pain and the fear in his voice were unlike anything Odo had ever heard from him. It was terrifying.

_“Hold on!_ ” Odo shouted.

He found the kit he had been searching for and brought it back, setting it on the control panel.

“Activate EMH,” he said.

In an instant, a balding man in a blue Starfleet uniform appeared. “Please state the nature of the medical emergency,” he said.

“He’s dying,” Odo said, and the man turned, and looked down, somewhat surprised.

“I can see that,” he said, and knelt down beside the Vorta, opening his own holographic med kit and pulling out a hypospray. “Do you know what caused this?” he asked.

The Doctor administered the spray, which seemed to help only a little. Weyoun was still shaking on the floor, his eyes glazing over.

“He has a-an implant,” Odo stammered. “Some kind of suicide implant.”

“ _Termination_ ,” Weyoun said, gasping for breath. “ _A termination im—_ ”

“Don’t talk,” the Doctor said. “I’m going to try to help you as best I can, but if you want to help me, you won’t overexert yourself.”

Weyoun groaned, and closed his eyes.

“But I do need you to stay awake,” the Doctor said, somewhat frantically. “Just try to do that.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Odo asked.

“We are on a runabout, with no infirmary and no medical unit of any kind,” the Doctor said. “The only thing I can tell you to do is to fly this ship as fast as you can to the nearest Federation ship, station, outpost, _whatever_ , with some kind of medical unit. Call someone if you need to. I’ll just try to keep him stable until surgery is possible.”

“Okay,” Odo said, stumbling hurriedly back to the controls.

He brought the runabout up to warp 5, probably much faster than he should have, but he didn’t want to waste any time. He sent out a distress signal on all frequencies.

The communications system pinged for what felt like hours, all while behind him, he heard the sound of the Doctor speaking quietly to his patient, whose condition seemed to fluctuate between groaning quietly and screaming as the Doctor did everything he could to keep him conscious.

Odo closed his eyes, trying to block out the noise, when suddenly, he heard a voice.

“Federation runabout, this is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the _USS Enterprise_ ,” a voice said.

Odo looked up. “Yes, hello. _Enterprise_ ,” he said frantically. “Constable Odo, Chief of Security, Deep Space Nine.”

“Constable. We received your distress signal. What can we do to assist?”

“How far are you?” he asked.

“About four minutes from your present location,” Picard replied. “What is the reason for your distress signal?”

“Four minutes?” the Doctor muttered, sounding a bit anxious himself.

“A man is dying,” Odo said. “He was injured in a Dominion attack. He needs medical assistance. Our EMH is doing all that he can, but…”

“Say no more. We’re on our way to you,” Picard said.

“Thank you,” Odo breathed.

“Picard out.”

“Yes. Okay. Thank you.”

The computer chimed, and the screen went blank once again.

“The _Enterprise_ ,” the Doctor said.

“Yes,” Odo murmured.

“My,” he said. “I didn’t expect such a high-class rescue operation.”

Odo looked at him, then at Weyoun, who was relatively still now, save for the heaving of his chest with every breath. The Vorta’s eyes were shut tight, and his face seemed paler than normal. Several dark purple veins in his neck and face had become visible, and he was covered in sweat.

Odo looked away, passing a hand over his face. He never knew he could feel this much concern for anyone, especially a Weyoun.

Remembering that he was set to rendezvous with the _Enterprise_ in less than four minutes, he took the runabout out of warp. He prayed they’d make it in time.

_Prayed_.

Huh.

He’d have to tell Kira about that when he saw her again.

Just as Odo had that thought, Weyoun gasped, and sputtered out a cough, which was soon followed by a stream of some thick, dark purplish fluid. Tears flowed from his eyes as he coughed harder, spattering himself and the floor with his vomit.

“Okay,” the Doctor said softly, comfortingly, and carefully turned Weyoun onto his side. He patted his back gently. “It’s okay. Help is on the way. You’re going to be fine. You’re going to be in great hands. Dr. Beverly Crusher is one of the best physicians in the Federation. Just stay with me for now, Weyoun.”

“Is that…” Odo said, looking with wide, terrified eyes.

“Blood,” the Doctor confirmed in a whisper. “I hope they get here soon.”

“Constable,” Picard’s voice said through the comm system. “We are within transporter range. Please maintain your current position and prepare to transport directly to sickbay.”

Thinking quickly, Odo grabbed the med kit off the control panel and closed it. The Doctor disappeared before his eyes. A moment later, he saw streams of shimmering light as he and Weyoun were transported out.

“I need all senior medical staff to report to sickbay and prepare for surgery immediately,” a red-haired woman in a blue uniform said as she stepped past Odo to stand beside the biobed Weyoun was now lying in, frozen, staring unblinkingly up at the ceiling.

For a moment, Odo thought he was dead, until he saw Weyoun close his eyes and flinch noticeably at the sight of this new Federation doctor leaning over him.

She injected him with another hypospray, and a nurse began cutting his clothes off with a sharp instrument.

“Doctor,” Odo said.

“Yes?” she said, glancing at him briefly over her shoulder.

He held out the med kit which contained the EMH, but said nothing, unable to find his words.

She looked at it, then back at him. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” she said, and went back to assessing her patient’s vitals.

“The EMH,” he said.

“EMH? What about it?” she asked flatly, and began calling out orders to her staff.

“He might be able to help,” Odo said. “He...he has been monitoring him for the last hour and a half.”

“That’s alright,” she said. “I think I’ve got it from here.”

“But…”

She stopped and looked at him dead on. “I’m sorry, sir. But I am a doctor, if you couldn’t tell, and my staff and I are fully capable of caring for our patients. Fortunately, I have recently had the opportunity to study Vorta physiology, so, as I have already said, _I think I can handle it_ . If you don’t mind, I’m going to have to ask you respectfully to please _leave my sickbay_.”

Odo’s jaw fell slack.

He quickly closed his mouth, and nodded. “Alright. Thank you, Doctor,” he said quietly.

She turned away from him once more, and went back to the small crowd of medical personnel who were now standing around the biobed.

“ _Odo_ ,” Weyoun breathed, looking at him, horrified.

“It’s going to be okay,” Odo managed.

He looked down, unable to allow himself to continue watching the ordeal, and then turned and made his way, as ordered, out of sickbay.

Outside, he was met by the same man who had answered his distress signal, Captain Picard.

“Constable,” the Captain said amiably. “Would you mind taking a walk with me?”

Odo nodded, and followed Picard down the corridor.

“Constable, I can’t help but notice that the man you requested my medical team’s assistance with is a Vorta,” he said, his tone hushed.

“Yes, sir, he is,” Odo said.

“And, being the Chief of Security at Deep Space Nine, the closest station to Dominion territory, I’m sure you are no doubt aware of why this might lead me to question what it was you were doing out here, a Changeling, in a runabout with a Vorta,” Picard said. “And a Vorta whose deeds in this war are quite well-known.”

“I know how it must look on the surface,” Odo said. “But I assure you, we pose no threat to your crew, or the Federation.”

“I believe you,” Picard said.

Odo had heard those three words and that tone so many times, and had used them himself so many times, that he knew they weren’t to be trusted at face value.

“It’s just,” Captain Picard went on, “you understand why it might look questionable.”

“Captain,” Odo said, stopping in the middle of the corridor, prompting the Captain to stop, too. “Captain, he defected,” Odo said quietly. “He left the Dominion. He was scared, and he asked for my help. They were going to kill him, and I promised to keep him safe. But they found us, and.... He activated some kind of suicide implant chip in his brainstem in front of his people to let them believe he was dead, to save my life and help me get back home. He’s not like them.”

“Odo, as a known _exception_ yourself,” Picard started to say, but Odo stopped him.

“Captain, with all due respect, I don’t like what you just said,” Odo said.

Picard sighed. “I apologize. I only meant that perhaps you should use a little more caution, and critical thinking where this _Vorta_ is involved. Not everyone’s heart is in the same place as yours.”

“I don’t have a heart,” Odo said.

Picard said nothing, his lips pressed together in a tight line.

“Captain, I don’t think it’s healthy to believe in... _biological tendencies_ the way the Federation does,” he said. “I believe everyone makes a choice about what kind of person they want to be. It isn’t their DNA that decides. It’s them. It’s the decisions they make every day. I would have thought your people would have learned that by now, but every day I am reminded they have not.”

Picard nodded, his expression sober. “I assure you, my medical staff is doing everything they can to save his life. I simply advise caution. If you say that he is not a bad person, I believe you. But don’t forget that he holds the memories of the experiences and beliefs of men that were not the best people. No doubt, there will be an adjustment period for him if he makes it.”

“I understand,” Odo said. “And I will be there to help him through that adjustment period.”

“I trust you will be,” Picard said, offering him a friendly, reassuring smile. “I have heard from Commander Worf about your attempt to raise an infant Changeling. He said even though it died, you made an honorable effort.”

“He was very sick,” Odo said. “The baby, I mean.”

Picard placed a hand on Odo’s shoulder. “So is your friend. But if Mr. Worf is right, and I am most certain he is because he doesn’t pass out such compliments lightly, your next effort will be just as honorable, and with your help, I’m sure this Vorta will be just fine.”

Odo looked down at his hands, and suddenly remembered he was holding the EMH’s med kit.

“Captain, is there somewhere I can open this?” he asked.

“Why?” Picard asked.

“It has the EMH from the runabout,” he said.

“You brought it with you? Why?”

“I thought he could help your doctor, since he knew what was going on, but she told me she had things under control,” Odo said. “Even though he couldn’t help, I wanted to give him an update on Weyoun’s condition and what I know so far.”

“I will arrange quarters for you,” Picard said. “You will probably be staying with us a few days while your friend recovers anyway.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Odo said.

* * *

A short while later, Odo was led to quarters which were much nicer than the ones he was used to on Deep Space Nine. But he supposed the flagship of the Federation would, of course, have all the bells and whistles, as it were. Nevertheless, he felt quite out of place in them, but he was too exhausted to really care, and his mind was still on Weyoun and whether or not he would survive.

He set the med kit down on the bed and opened it.

“Computer, activate EMH,” he said.

“Please state the nature of the medical emergency,” the Doctor said, reappearing just as he had before. He looked around for a moment, confused at first. “Odo. Am I on the _Enterprise_?” he asked.

“Yes,” Odo said. “I hope you don’t mind, I brought you with me.”

“Not at all,” the Doctor said. “Tell me. How is he?”

“Dr. Crusher took over his care as soon as we boarded,” Odo said. “The last time I saw him, they were preparing him for surgery.”

“Good,” the Doctor said, nodding.

“I didn’t get the chance to ask. I...didn’t want to frighten him any more than necessary,” Odo said slowly. “What is your prognosis? Do you think he’ll make it?”

“It’s difficult to say,” the Doctor said. “I know almost nothing about Vorta physiology. He seemed...biologically similar to some other humanoid species I’m familiar with. He was bleeding internally, and he was suffering from organ failure in multiple systems. You saw his condition. I’d say that his odds aren’t good. Whatever that implant did, it was definitely meant to be effective. I’m surprised I kept him alert as long as I did.”

Odo sighed, lowering his head. “Thank you for your honesty, Doctor.”

“But,” the Doctor went on. “Dr. Crusher is one of the best. She’s very good. And that, I think, increases his odds some.”

“Okay,” Odo said, looking at him, a bit more hopeful.

“I think we just need to wait it out,” he told him.

Odo sat on the edge of the bed. “Thank you again, Doctor.”

“Of course,” the Doctor said. “Now, um, I’m not designed for prolonged, repetitive use. Would you mind turning me off?” Quickly, he added, “But by all means, please feel free to update me on his condition when you know more.”

“Oh. Of course.” Odo reached for the med kit. “End program,” he said, and watched as the Doctor disappeared before closing the lid.

Hours more, it seemed, went by as Odo waited for the call that would tell him whether or not Weyoun was dead or alive, if the surgery had been a success and the implant was removed and its effects reversed, or at least halted, or if it had all been a disaster, another incredible failure of a mission.

Finally, there came a chime at the door, and he stood, making his way towards it.

“Enter,” he said, and watched intently as the same red-haired doctor entered.

“Constable,” she said.

“Is he...” he started, but couldn’t bring himself to say it. _Dead_.

“He’s asking for you,” she said. “I tried to call you, but I guess your comm badge isn’t working, and anyway, I...I thought you’d like to hear the news in person.”

“Oh,” Odo said, overjoyed.

“I can take you to him,” she said, and nodded for him to follow her.

They walked together down the corridor toward a turbolift.

“He’s okay,” Odo said.

“He suffered some minor brain damage, most of which we were able to repair, but he may be a bit confused for a while,” she said. “And then there was the severe organ failure. I had to replace three vital organs with artificial replacements. But yes, he will be alright as long as he doesn’t overexert himself.”

“Thank you,” he said. “I’m...very glad to hear.”

She nodded, and forced a small smile. “He fought very hard.” The turbolift stopped, and the door opened, and she stepped between Odo and the exit. “But,” she said. “I do want to ask something.”

“Okay,” Odo said, confused.

“Why?”

“Why, what?” he asked.

“You know _why, what_ ,” she said.

“Why did I have a Vorta on my ship?” he asked. “Why didn’t I let him die? Why did I bring him here?”

She nodded.

“I don’t know,” he said. “But he was scared, and he asked for asylum, and I gave it to him. And when his people came after us, he saved my life, so I saved his.”

She said nothing, but sighed. She looked past him thoughtfully, and crossed her arms.

“He says he’s different, and I want to believe him,” he said. “I assure you that once we leave here, he will be under my surveillance until he has proven that he means what he says. In the meantime, I want to do everything I can to give him the best possible chance.”

“You mean that?” she asked.

He nodded.

“Okay,” she said, and she smiled. A real one this time. “Come on. Let’s go see him.”

She turned, and stepped out of the turbolift, and he followed her down another corridor and through the passage into sickbay.

Weyoun was lying on his side in a biobed, folded up in a fetal position. His head had been shaved and there was a line of bandages running from the back of his head all the way to his chin. His eyes were closed, but he was breathing easily now, much to Odo’s relief.

“Weyoun,” Dr. Crusher said softly, placing a hand on his arm.

He opened his eyes, and looked up at her weakly. “Doctor.”

“Hi,” she said, smiling. “There’s someone here to see you.”

Weyoun groaned softly as he rolled onto his back to better see Odo. He tried to no avail to readjust his blanket, but only twisted it up further until Dr. Crusher had to help him.

“Odo,” he said, smiling.

“How are you feeling?” Odo asked.

“Not well,” he said with a soft laugh, which made him close his eyes in pain. “But I could be worse, I suppose.”

“You look better than you did when I last saw you,” Odo said reassuringly.

“How kind of you to say,” Weyoun replied.

“I’m glad you are okay,” Odo said.

Weyoun looked away, saying nothing but sat in near-silence. With every breath he took, Odo could hear a wheezing in his lungs that sounded like paper being torn. Weyoun closed his eyes again, and he coughed.

“I hate this feeling,” he said after a moment. “I never felt this much before.”

“Is there anything I can get you? Anything Dr. Crusher can do for you?” Odo asked.

“You’re not gods,” Weyoun said, looking at Odo, his eyes dull and shot with plum-colored bloody lines.

“No,” Odo said. “We aren’t.”

“I know now,” Weyoun said. “Gods wouldn’t have done this to me.”

Odo looked up at Dr. Crusher, who shook her head helplessly. This wasn’t her arena.

“I can get you something for the pain,” Dr. Crusher asked.

“The pain,” Weyoun said. “The brightness. The cold. This chemical taste in my mouth. It’s too much.”

“What is he talking about?” Odo asked quietly.

“I...I’m not sure,” she said. “But I’ll get him something, and then I think we should let him rest.”

“Okay,” Odo said, and he moved toward the doorway to watch as she laid a hand on Weyoun’s forehead, then retrieved a hypospray from the pocket of her lab coat and administered it.

Odo saw him visibly relax, fall limp, as his breathing slowed to a normal, relaxed rate.

She made her way toward the door, and she and Odo left. She took him to her office, where they sat down.

“According to all the monitors, he’s healing the way he should,” she said. “All his vitals are as close to normal as they should be for someone in his condition.”

She sighed, and passed her hands over her face, her expression thoroughly stressed and fatigued.

“What did he mean,” she went on, her voice slow and oddly quiet, “‘I’ve never felt this much’?”

“The Vortas’ senses are subdued,” Odo said. “Their sight, their taste, and I suppose their sense of touch, too. They’ve been altered to be obedient to the Founders, so all outside interferences have been cut off.”

Her face relaxed, and her mouth fell open. “Oh,” she said.

“What?” he asked.

“Oh, no,” she said. “ _Damn_.”

“What?” Odo asked again.

“I assumed he’d suffered extreme nerve damage,” she said. “And I guess he had, but...I may have overcompensated.”

“I don’t understand,” Odo said.

“I had to completely rebuild his neural pathways,” she said.

“And?”

“And I think I may have overcompensated,” she said again. “Where I thought I saw damage, I was probably seeing something fairly close to his normal nervous system. At least normal for him, for what he’s used to because of their alterations. He’s probably feeling a bit overstimulated from all the new...well, everything. He’s got more and stronger senses than ever, I’d assume, based on what you’ve just told me.”

“He’ll be okay, though, right?” Odo asked.

“Yes, of course,” she said. “The worst is over, rest assured, but I think I may have just made recovery a bit harder for him.”

Odo sighed, passing a hand over his face. “Maybe it’ll be best,” he said, “in the long run. But I can’t help but feel somewhat responsible for everything he’s going through now.”

“He’s going to be okay, Constable,” she said. “He’s very strong. He fought very hard, and stayed alive a lot longer than he should have with as much damage as I had to repair.”

Odo nodded, and before he even thought about it, he asked, “Should I stay? Here, on the _Enterprise_?”

“You can stay as long as he’s here,” she said. “I should be able to transfer him to Dr. Bashir’s care in three days.”

“No, I mean,” Odo hesitated, “now that he doesn’t want me here.”

“Why would you think he doesn’t want you here?”

“He was upset with me for doing this to him,” Odo said. “For...for saving him. For bringing him here.”

“He’s very confused,” she said. “He suffered a lot of trauma, and he’s got a lot of drugs in his system right now. He doesn’t know what he’s saying. _He called us gods, Constable!_ ”

“No, he called _me_ a god. The Vorta think the Changelings are gods,” Odo said. “He thought of me as a god until tonight. I didn’t like it, but...”

“But now you’re worried he hates you,” she concluded.

He nodded.

“He doesn’t hate you,” she said. “He asked for you up until the moment he was sedated, and your name was the first word he spoke when he woke up. He wants you here.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Odo said.

“I’ll call you when he wakes up,” she said. “Unless...”

He looked at her wordlessly, the area where his eyebrows should have been raised.

“Unless you want to stay with him,” she said. “It might be nice for him if you were here when he woke up.”

He nodded. “Okay,” he said, standing.

“I can get someone to bring you a cot or a more comfortable chair if you’re going to spend the night with him,” she said.

“Uh, thank you,” he said, “but, I think the chair that is already in the room will be fine. Uh. Thank you.”

She smiled, watching him depart, and she retrieved a PADD from the corner of her desk to begin rewriting Weyoun’s treatment plan.

* * *

It was nearing four-hundred hours. Odo was slumped over in his chair, watching as Weyoun shifted from one side to his other in his sleep, now facing Odo. His brow was furrowed and his paler-than-normal skin was covered in a sheen of sweat.

“Morning,” someone said, approaching.

He sat up quickly, practically jumped, but relaxed when he saw it was only the nurse.

“You’re fine, Constable,” she said. “I’m just here to check his vitals.”

“Alright.”

He wasn’t sure how to read any of the monitors, but his gaze followed hers as she looked over each one and copied the data onto a PADD. She smiled politely and stepped past Odo as she walked around to the side of the bed where he was sitting.

“Uh, Nurse…”

“Ogawa,” she said.

“Nurse Ogawa,” he repeated, “can you tell me how he’s doing?”

“Well,” she said, looking at Weyoun, then the PADD, then the monitors, “I’m not really supposed to offer my prognosis, but I’d say he’s doing very well. Everything looks as it should. Dr. Crusher will be in soon to check on him.”

“Thank you,” he said.

She nodded, and then departed the same way she had come in.

Odo sighed, looking up once more at the monitors, at all the passing numbers and gently fluctuating lines. They meant nothing to him, but at least her professional opinion was a comfort to him.

A little while later, Weyoun groaned softly and then slowly opened his eyes.

“Odo,” he said softly.

“I’m here.”

“I’m in a hospital.”

“You’re in the sickbay of the _USS Enterprise_ ,” Odo said.

“Of course,” Weyoun said, turning onto his back. “I remember now.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Not great,” Weyoun said. “But better than I did.”

Odo nodded.

“Is this what it’s like to...to perceive things normally?” he asked, staring up at the ceiling.

“I’m not sure I’m the best person to ask that,” Odo said.

“You’re the only person I can ask,” Weyoun said.

“Dr. Crusher will be here in a—”

“That’s not what I mean.”

Odo went quiet.

“You’re the only person who has any understanding of what was done to me,” he said. “Of what I’m going through now.”

“I’ve tried to explain the situation to her,” Odo said. “And she and her medical staff are going to do everything in their power to help you. You’re going to be alright.”

He reached over and placed a hand on Weyoun’s where it rested on top of the blanket. Weyoun flinched at the feeling, but didn’t take his hand away. He wanted to trust Odo, to believe him, and to believe everything would be alright. But now, he wasn’t sure what he believed or who he trusted. He just knew he didn’t want Odo to leave him. Not now. A tear rolled down his cheek, and Odo reached out to wipe it away.

“You’re going to be alright,” he said again. “I promise.”

* * *

An hour later, when Dr. Crusher arrived, Weyoun was sitting up in bed and he and Odo were playing some sort of find-the-word game on a device Nurse Ogawa had brought them, which was usually reserved for children, but which Weyoun wanted to play with when he noticed it on the shelf. He was feeling somewhat better now. A lot calmer, at least, though there was this dull pounding in his head and a sharp pain any time he moved too quickly.

“Ah, you’re awake,” Dr. Crusher said, smiling. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“My head hurts,” he said, “and my stomach feels strange. But other than that, I feel much better.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” she said as she looked over the monitors behind him before turning toward him with a small tool which she pointed in his ears. “Alright. Look at me.” He did, and she used it to examine his eyes. “Open your mouth. Alright. Close.” She lowered the machine. “Everything’s looking great. You’re healing very quickly. Much quicker than many of my human patients.”

“The Vorta were altered to heal quickly. We also have heightened immune systems and a high tolerance for poisons and other chemical substances.”

“That explains why it took so much to knock you out,” she said with a laugh.

He looked at her for a moment, then, realizing it had been a joke, laughed. “Probably,” he said. “I am immune to many drugs as well.”

“Not very good if you need medical treatment,” she said, just trying to keep the conversation going as she wrote something down on the PADD she had propped against her forearm.

“Normally, the Vorta do not receive medical treatment,” he said, and she looked up from her writing, puzzled. “If one is injured and does not heal in a reasonable amount of time, he or she is terminated and replaced.”

“Oh,” she said, looking from Weyoun to Odo, who confirmed this with a single somber nod. “Well.” She cleared her throat. “I’ve made you an appointment to speak with Deanna Troi, our ship’s counselor, after breakfast,” she said. “Speaking of which, is there anything you would prefer? I would advise you to stay away from solid foods for a day or two, but if there’s a specific yogurt or a pudding or ice cream that you like, or a soup…”

He shook his head. “Whatever you would recommend.”

“I’ll have one of the nurses bring you some peach yogurt,” she said. “It’s very good. I’m sure you’ll like it.”

“Thank you,” he said.

“It’s no problem,” she said. “I’ll see you later.”

She departed, and a few minutes later, a nurse he hadn’t seen before came by to give him the yogurt Dr. Crusher had recommended. He thanked them, and they quietly departed. With a shaky hand, he lifted a spoonful of the yogurt up to his mouth, and after taking a bite, immediately put the spoon back in the bowl and set the whole tray over onto the bedside table.

“What’s wrong?” Odo asked.

He swallowed hard. “It’s too strong. I don’t think I like it,” he said.

“That’s fine,” Odo said. “When someone comes by again, we can ask for something else.”

“Okay.”

* * *

When Counselor Troi arrived, Odo excused himself to go back to his quarters, where he opened the EMH’s kit.

“Activate EMH.”

“Please state the nature of the medical emergency,” the hologram said, appearing in an instant directly in front of him. “Odo,” he said, smiling. “Tell me. How is our friend?”

“Dr. Crusher says he’s doing very well,” Odo said. “I stayed with him all night. He woke up almost two hours ago. He’s talking and now he’s thinking a bit more clearly. Last night, he definitely wasn’t, but now he’s much better. We played a word game on one of the sickbay’s PADDs, and he was doing alright with that. A little slower than normal, but still good.”

“That’s very good to hear,” the Doctor said. “His genetic augmentations must be helping a lot with the healing process.”

“That’s what I think, too,” Odo said. “But…”

“But?”

“Dr. Crusher accidentally reversed some of his augmentations, so now he can feel and see and taste things, I assume, normally,” he said. “She repaired some neural pathways she thought were damaged which weren’t. Well. They were, by the Founders, but he’s never lived with them otherwise until now. He’s having a little trouble adjusting, but Dr. Crusher says it’s nothing he won’t be able to adjust to in time.”

“Oh, yes, I’m sure he’ll be just fine once he gets used to that,” the Doctor replied, nodding. “He may need some time, and possibly some physical therapy, but that’s nothing he won’t be able to live with.”

Odo nodded. “I think it will probably be better for him in the long run. Don’t you? To be able to perceive things like other humanoids?”

“That’s really a relative term,” the Doctor said. “Cardassians naturally have hearing that by most standards would be considered weak, while Ferengi hear things much more loudly than any other species. Some humans are born deaf. Similar observations can be made about any of the five senses for a variety of different humanoid species. Not all humanoids experience stimuli the same way. It’s hard to say what natural Vorta senses are like compared to what he was used to, or compared to any number of other species. This could, at least at first, be quite shocking for him. But yes, perhaps it will be better for him in the long run. He’ll get to experience so many new sensations he never did before. He’ll be able to enjoy so many things for the first time. The taste of his favorite food. The smell of a flower. The intimacy of physical touch. Who knows what else? I definitely don’t think it will be detrimental for him to have these experiences because despite the vast differences of how other species perceive the world around them, shared experiences help develop important things like empathy and understanding, and emotional bonds with others. He’ll be able to relate to those around him and formulate opinions in ways he wasn’t able to before.”

“That’s,” Odo said slowly, “very reassuring. I’m sure he’ll be pleased to know that as well.”

“I hope so,” the Doctor said, smiling.

“He’s with Counselor Troi right now,” Odo said.

“Counselor Troi. Deanna, the ship’s therapist?”

“Yes. Do you know her?”

“I’m familiar with her work. I have a few of her publications in my database. She’s good,” he said. “I think it will be good for him to talk to a therapist after everything he’s been through.”

“So do I.” Odo sighed. “I think it will help him to talk to someone.”

* * *

Three days later, Weyoun was well enough to stand and walk slowly alongside Odo and Dr. Crusher to the shuttlebay where the runabout was waiting.

“I’ve already contacted Dr. Bashir,” Dr. Crusher said. “He’s ready to receive you into his care as soon as you arrive. He’ll be monitoring you for the next ten days or so, and then you’ll be able to leave the infirmary. Do you have a place to stay?”

“He’ll be staying with me until he’s well enough for us to request quarters for him,” Odo said.

Weyoun looked at him, surprised, but also grateful. They had not discussed where he was to go. He was glad Odo wanted him to stay with him, and he was glad to be allowed to stay on Deep Space Nine.

“That sounds like an excellent plan,” Dr. Crusher said. “He’ll need someone to look after him. And I’m sure you’re very glad to be in such safe hands.”

“I am,” Weyoun said.

They stopped inside the shuttlebay, just outside the entrance to the runabout.

“Well, here we are,” Dr. Crusher said. “Good luck.”

“Thank you,” Weyoun said.

“I’ll be sure to stop by and see you if I ever find myself on DS9,” she said.

“I look forward to it.”

“Alright.” She took a step closer, tentatively. “I’m not supposed to do this, but I’m gonna make an exception because you were such an exceptional case,” she said. “Is it alright if I hug you?”

Weyoun looked at her, then to Odo, then back to her. “Um,” he said. “Okay. Yes.”

She wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him gently. It felt strange, but not in a bad way. Perhaps strange was too strong a word. It felt unusual. Foreign. But not bad. Slowly, he hugged her back.

She pulled away a moment later and smiled at him. “You stay safe,” she said. “And feel better.”

“I’ll try,” he said. “I have much better chances thanks to you.”

“And to the Constable here,” she said.

“Yes,” Weyoun agreed.

“You just take it easy,” she said. “Get some rest on your trip back.”

“Alright,” he said.

“If he gets out of bed, do I have permission to stun him?” Odo joked, though that fact was hard to tell.

Realizing a moment later that he was joking, she laughed. “No, I don’t think so,” she said. “Alright. Well, I’ve got to get back to sickbay. I’ll see you around maybe.”

“Goodbye, Doctor,” Weyoun said.

“See you,” Odo said, then he looked at Weyoun. “Ready to go, then?”

“I think so,” Weyoun said, taking Odo’s arm when he offered it and letting him lead him up the ramp onto the runabout.


End file.
